
“I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you. “
Paulo Coelho, “The Alchemist”
Image: Adelina ZW, Pixabay

“I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you. “
Paulo Coelho, “The Alchemist”
Image: Adelina ZW, Pixabay
Filed under News

This is a simple, yet extraordinary post from fellow blogger Catnip of Life. Indeed, the heart never gets wrinkled! Thank you, Sharla!
“There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.”
It is inevitable for the wrinkles of life to show their ‘ugly’ signs throughout the aging process. For some, the signs of aging appear much earlier than others. How soon they appear and the deepness of their appearance depends upon life itself…its ups & downs, as well as detours along the way.
“Wave the magic wand!” we might say at some point. Ah-h-h-h, if only that would work but then we could find ourselves in the midst of a global storm! Yet, if we were without those wrinkles, what would that say about our lives? Would we have truly lived? Would we have smiled and laughed, as well as frowned and cried? Or, would our faces look pasty without any indications of former emotion?
Reflect back on times in your life perhaps when a wrinkle might have first appeared. What was your reaction? Did signs of any wrinkling change the love and compassion you feel in your heart? To love and to be loved never ages regardless if wrinkles appear!
Filed under News

Recently the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services released a report on a surprising, yet intriguing subject: loneliness. According to various studies and surveys, isolation and a lack of social connectivity has become epidemic. The COVID-19 pandemic may have exacerbated what was already problematic for millions of Americans.
“Our epidemic of loneliness and isolation has been an underappreciated public health crisis that has harmed individual and societal health,” declared U.S. Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy. “Our relationships are a source of healing and well-being hiding in plain sight – one that can help us live healthier, more fulfilled, and more productive lives. Given the significant health consequences of loneliness and isolation, we must prioritize building social connection the same way we have prioritized other critical public health issues such as tobacco, obesity, and substance use disorders. Together, we can build a country that’s healthier, more resilient, less lonely, and more connected.”
The physical health consequences of poor or insufficient connections are dire. They include a 29% increased risk of heart disease; a 32% increased risk of stroke; and a 50% increased risk of developing dementia for older adults. Lack of social connections is estimated to increase the risk of premature death by more than 60%.
In addition to our physical health, loneliness and isolation contribute substantially to mental health challenges. In adults, the risk of developing depression among people who report feeling lonely often is more than double that of people who rarely or never feel lonely. Loneliness and social isolation in childhood increase the risk of depression and anxiety both immediately and well into the future. And with an estimated one in five adults living with a mental illness in the U.S., addressing loneliness and isolation has become critical in fully addressing the mental health crisis in America.
For better or worse, the COVID-19 pandemic exposed the loneliness dilemma. It also seems to have amplified it. As businesses either switched to remote work or shut down altogether, people found themselves isolated in the name of good health. I think much of this was foretold by the obsession with social media in the preceding two decades; where people would establish cyber relationships and call each other “friends”.
As an only child and a confirmed introvert, I’ve dealt with loneliness my entire life. Sometimes I really do get lonely; other times I’m just alone. I’ve always been a loner – something my parents never seemed to understand – and I’ve rarely done well in groups. I get bored easily and quickly grow tired of dealing with people’s attitudes and personality quirks. I put up with a lot of people’s disrespectful behavior towards me most of my life, which is the primary reason I don’t consider myself a people person.
But I have to admit I do get lonely sometimes. I’m glad my parents had each other and me (and even my dog, Wolfgang to some extent) as they aged. One of my uncles lives alone in a dingy apartment with a cat. (An older cat died a few months ago, which devastated him.) He can’t drive anymore, so he either takes a bus or has someone transport him somewhere. I’ve taken him to a variety of doctor appointments over the past few years and grocery shopping almost every weekend for months now. His stepdaughter lives closer, but she has her own health problems.
I have an aunt who also lives alone. Her son, like me, is an only child, but he’s married and resides several miles from his mother. She’s fortunate, though, in that a neighbor has access to her house and keeps an eye on her. My aunt frightened me a few years ago, when she recounted how she fell in the bathroom one night and had to drag herself into her bedroom. It took her hours just to get there. But she was able to call her neighbor who contacted the fire department. I stay in touch with my uncle and aunt, as well as other relatives and friends – even if it’s just via text message.
I only know a few of my neighbors and have little contact with most relatives. I’ve never been married and I never had children, so I don’t know how life will be for me if I grow much older. Loneliness will be just one factor in my later life.
Some years ago a friend expressed concern that I was becoming a hermit. “Why should I go out?” I responded. I lived with my parents, so I certainly couldn’t bring anyone home. Then again, I hadn’t brought anyone home who I didn’t know since before the turn of the century.
A close friend keeps urging me to get a dog, as he did a couple of years ago. Aside from two household plants that languish nondescriptly on a kitchen counter, I’m the only living being in this house. (That doesn’t include the occasional insect that invades my quiet abode.) I’d love to get a dog, but I’m just not in the right situation now to get one.
Dr. Murthy has established a six-point plan to help the U.S. deal with its loneliness epidemic:
All of this is easier said than done, and every plan looks good on paper. But I know something has to be done, if the nation’s overall health is to improve. I only have a small collection of friends, but that’s all I personally need. As with most everything else, it’s quality, not quantity, that matters. And quality of life is always important.
Image: Seher Bilgin
Filed under Essays

“I really do love you, Janie.”
Heath looked so sad.
Janie managed to lift her yes; the migraine having magically disappeared. The light from the floor lamp beside her normally would have reignited the pain. But, she thought, the wine must have already started working its own magic – along with whatever Heath had put into it.
He stood a few feet in front of her; bare-chested and holding…something in his left hand. She couldn’t make out exactly what it was. And she didn’t care. She couldn’t help but salivate over his rocky torso and recall how much she cared about him. How things had seemed so perfect all this time. If college was supposed to be a coming-of-age/adventure/find-your-true-identity, Janie had achieved a perfect score.
And now, it had come to this. These things weren’t supposed to happen. In a perfect universe. If such a place existed. In this universe.
His lips trembled – the way they did when he first asked her out. The way they did when he asked her to marry him. So…what was he going to ask her now? “I’m sorry,” he muttered.
She saw his eyes glance to the wine glass she held in her left hand. And unexpectedly let go.
It tumbled to the floor.
“Sorry,” she said. “Sorry about…what?”
“I love you. But…”
She tried to lean forward, yet her body seemed paralyzed. The lines in Heath’s torso began to crisscross. “What?” she spit out.
“I can’t go on like this.”
“Like what?”
“I’m sorry it came to…this.”
The last thing she heard. Her head knocked to the right, and her body slumped.
A few spots of wine dotted the chair where she sat.
Heath took a deep breath. “Oh, God. Forgive me.”
She was heavier than he thought. He pulled her limp body off the chair and into the kitchen.
Getting her into the boat along the pier was even more difficult. He moved only by feel and by moonlight. The blue-black darkness hid enough, he felt. Lewisville Lake was a long 20-something miles away from the condo. A trash dumpster would have been closer…but too obvious.
So he chose the lake.
The flavor of the alga-laden water swaddled his throat. Heavy, heavy.
He grinned. They both liked the lake. They and all of their friends. How many good times did they have out here? Memorial Days, Fourth of July, Labor Days…many summer days. Just about any weekend they felt like coming out here. Just about any time they felt good about…something. Or didn’t feel good. The lake was always a refuge; always a place to escape from whatever.
That odor of the water…heavy, heavy…like Janie’s body.
Even getting the inflatable boat out of the garage had been a chore. Everything had become so difficult.
He had shrouded her in an old burlap bag and hoisted her into the boat. Actually a giant…raft? Seemed like it. An oversized pool toy colored blue and green. Thick material. It wobbled…but made little noise as he slipped it into the water.
No moon. Clouds covered it.
The water undulated quietly. The mossy scent had become strong, almost too strong.
What great times they had out here.
How had it come to this?
Despite the coolness of the night air, sweat coated his bare torso. His cargo shorts were also damp with moisture. He paddled out as far from shore as he could, using the little rubber oar that came with this glorified pool accoutrement.
He finally stopped.
And breathed.
Strong water smell.
Without looking he grabbed the end of the thick rope laying beside him. The rest was already wrapped around…the bag. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.
Rolling her over the rounded edge of the boat almost tipped the entire thing over. The sound of her form hitting the water made the loudest noise in that serene night.
The rest of that rope quickly uncoiled itself from its spot beside Heath’s foot…before the last few inches wrapped around his ankle…and knocked him off balance.
He fell into the water with an even louder splash.
The boat tipped upwards onto its side before smacking back down into place.
A whirlpool sprung up where Heath entered the water.
And, as Janie’s burlap-clad body sank into the lake, Heath didn’t see – he couldn’t see – her hand poking through the bag…grasping the rope.

Filed under Wolf Tales
All these lies you’ve thrown in my face? From the moment we first met, when you looked into my amber eyes and proclaimed your unrequited love for me, I now realize you’re nothing more ingenious than a charlatan. Stupid me, though! My battered soul stood open like an untreated gunshot wound; vulnerable to even the most inconspicuous of viral agents. Blind from years of isolation and self-pity, I relinquished the last vestiges of my trust and dignity to you.
Now, you do this to me? You turn on me like a rabid dog? I suppose you thought I could be yet another toy in your playroom. Telling me our age differences mattered not one bit to you; reassuring me that you could look beyond my sagging skin and gray hairs. Seduced by your gentle words, I felt I had no choice.
Oh, God, I just knew you were different from all the others who entered my life. You were so kind to me; your gentle words as sweet and irresistible as a flower’s nectar are to a bee. How did you know I floundered in such a fragile state? How could you tell my modesty was actually bitter self-loathing? I suppose that’s just one of your many attributes. You know how to find the vulnerable ones.
But, all of that stops now. You’ll never do that to me or anyone else ever again. Your games have ended. Oh, my God! What a beautiful sunrise! Look at it! Yes, turn your head and take a good, long look at it.
It’s the last one we’ll ever see together.
There are two bullets in this gun.
One is for you.
© 2014
Filed under Wolf Tales